


And You Feel Like Home

by spibsy (lucy_and_ramona)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flirting, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_and_ramona/pseuds/spibsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is like a dream except he's real, and sometimes Zayn thinks too long and too hard about that. Or maybe he thinks about it just enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You Feel Like Home

Harry answers Louis's door, mid-laugh. It's not really surprising, because Harry's always where Louis is, really, but Zayn raises his eyebrows anyway.

"Hey, yeah, he's getting dressed." Harry snickers and Zayn puts it down to one of their inside jokes he'll never understand and lets it go as Harry steps aside to let him into Louis's hotel room.

Zayn'd offer to see if Harry wants to come with them, but he tends to not be old enough, and besides, Louis's probably already offered. Zayn ignores the little part of him that considers clubbing his and Louis's _thing_ , because he and Louis don't have _things_.

They exchange idle chitchat until Louis finally exits the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel but otherwise dressed and ready.

"Hey," he greets Zayn with a grin, tossing the towel to the floor carelessly. Zayn winces, but suppresses the urge to pick it up. He's not quite as bad as Liam yet.

"Ready?" Zayn asks expectantly, lifting himself from the bed.

Louis ruffles his hair and then nods. "Yeah, m'good," he answers, distracted as he searches for his car keys as well as his hotel key card. "Right, good!" He snatches them from his bedside table, and tucks them into his pocket.

"Don't stay out too late and don't take candy from any strangers," Harry advises in a grandmotherly tone, grinning brightly before giving them both hugs so tight they feel more like strangleholds. Zayn bears it, though, because it's Harry and maybe he's weirdly clingy and unfairly adorable at times, but Zayn'd do anything for that boy.

Zayn vaguely notices Harry moving down the hall to his own room as they leave, but isn't paying much attention as Louis jumps onto his back and he has to focus on not dropping him, gripping his knees tightly.

"Fucking hell, Lou," he grunts, adjusting his grip to curl underneath Louis's thighs.

"I dunno if I even really feel like clubbing," Louis admits, wrapping his arms around Zayn's neck from behind, seemingly content to let him carry him into the elevator. "Just not really in the mood. Dunno."

"Is that why you got your car keys?" Zayn asks curiously, letting Louis push the button for the lobby. "I wondered."

"Maybe," Louis sings, tightening his arms around Zayn's neck. "Y'wanna, I don't know. Go see a movie or something, instead? Or we can still _go_ , I'm just not in the mood, really. But it's our thing, so I don't mind."

Maybe it's how Louis called it their _thing_ , but Zayn can't suppress a smile he's sure looks dorky and is glad Louis can't see him from his vantage point.

"As long as you don't try to make a move on me in the theater," he teases, adjusting his grip on Louis's thighs again. "I know all your tricks, Tomlinson."

Louis snorts, and Zayn senses his movement before it happens, quickly blurting, "If you mess up my hair I'm dropping you!"

There's a cessation of movement before Louis grumbles and replaces his arm around Zayn's neck. "Spoilsport," he mutters, dropping to the ground himself when the doors open again. "Like I'd make a move on you _ever_."

Zayn just gives him a look, and there's a moment where they're stuck, looking at each other and both knowing why, neither willing to be the first to acknowledge it.

"Just saying, if you try the yawn-arm-over-shoulder move, I'm ready for it." Zayn sticks out his tongue to diffuse the tension and Louis smiles gratefully.

"You severely underestimate me." He knocks the back of his hand against Zayn's as they start walking again, and Zayn nudges his own back against Louis's. It's a weirdly intimate gesture and Zayn doesn't know what to do with it, so he doesn't do anything.

They have to go out the back to avoid the few girls who've managed to work out which hotel they're staying at. It's not that Zayn's not grateful for all their fans, he just wishes, a little, that they could not be mobbed everywhere they went. He actually has no idea how they're going to see a movie, and voices his concerns to Louis as they finally locate his car in the VIP parking area.

"A very good question." Louis hums as he gets into the driver's seat, tapping his key against the steering wheel. "Are we famous enough yet to be able to call ahead and claim a whole theater?"

"Famous enough or up ourselves enough?" Zayn wrinkles his nose. "Maybe we should do something else?"

"But I want to see that one," Louis says unhelpfully. "The Twilight one."

"We're not going to see Breaking Dawn," Zayn says, unamused. "If you take us to see Breaking Dawn, I'll shout your name in the crowded theater."

"You've got way too much self preservation." Louis huffs at him but backs down. "Alright, what, then? There aren't many places we can go without being recognized, y'know."

"I guess we'll just go and deal with it," Zayn sighs, folding his arms across his chest. "It won't be too bad, right? We'll just keep a low profile."

"Right, it'll be fine." Louis looks doubtful, but doesn't voice it, simply starting the ignition.

The ride there is uneventful except how at one point, Louis sets his hand on Zayn's thigh while he's telling a story and Zayn spends the five minutes until he moves it trying to breathe properly.

"Alright, we're here," Louis says unnecessarily. They both look out the windshield at the building with trepidation, and Zayn checks the time on his phone.

"It's eleven, surely there won't be that many people here who'd recognize us at _eleven_ ," he says hopefully.

"Right, probably not." Louis takes a breath before swinging his door open and locking it once Zayn exits as well.

They keep their heads low and the theater is almost deserted, but the girl behind the counter for tickets lets out a gasp when they appear in front of her, and Louis winces. She doesn't make a scene, though, and Zayn will be forever grateful as she simply asks which movie they want to see with a slightly shaking voice.

"Whichever one has the least people in the theater?" Louis asks with a charming grin. "I dunno, can you tell that?" He pretends to peer at her computer screen even though she's behind a wall of glass.

"Yes of course," she replies, punching a few keys and then swallowing. "You're still eighteen, right?" she asks Zayn. Her nametag says 'Abbie' and she's drawn a smiley face on it.

"Yeah, I am." He smiles at her and she goes bright red.

"Seventeen pounds thirty five," she states, printing off the tickets. There's a small scuffle when Louis insists on paying for both of them and Zayn replies that he ' _said_ don't try any of your moves on me, Tomlinson,' but eventually Louis is slamming his money down in the slot for it with a victorious look.

Abbie has dissolved into giggles but accepts the money and pushes their tickets through the slot. Zayn hands Louis his and gives her a wave before they leave the booth, pretending he doesn't see her immediately pull out her phone.

The theater is calm and dark already when they walk in, which is good, because it's more full than they'd like. They have a moment of dawdling before they walk quickly to their seats, grateful that the first scene of the movie seems to take place in a fucking cave or something.

To be honest, Zayn really has no idea what happens during the movie, because despite Louis's insistence when they were in the elevator, about fifteen minutes into it, there's an arm draped over Zayn's shoulder and patterns being traced on his upper arm.

Zayn sighs about halfway through when Louis doesn't seem about to move it any time soon, and reaches his own hand up to tangle his own with Louis's fingers. Nobody can see them anyway and if Louis keeps drawing on him like that, Zayn's going to go crazy, so he figures it's the best solution.

The ending of the movie is probably a surprise, because everyone in the theater gasps apart from them, and then the credits are rolling. Zayn hisses that they should probably try to get out before the lights come up and Louis silently agrees, brushing his fingers over the side of Zayn's neck before standing and prodding Zayn to move quickly.

Zayn moves as fast as he can even though all of his limbs feel like jelly. Louis had progressed to rubbing his arm lightly, up and down, for the last twenty minutes, and Zayn had gotten entirely too relaxed.

Somehow, they make it to Louis's car unscathed, piling into it quickly just in case, and then just sitting there.

Either of them could say something, Zayn could mention that Louis seems to have this problem where he won't stop touching him, or he could say something about the movie he spend the entirety of thinking about how nice Louis touching him _feels_.

He doesn't say either, simply leaning back in the seat and waiting for Louis to start the car.

Without looking, he knows Louis is staring at him, and he casts his eyes to the side to watch him. Louis doesn't look away even though Zayn's looking, now, just tilts his head a little curiously.

They've been dancing around this something for a long time, and Zayn doesn't think either of them knows what it is, but it feels like they're on the edge of discovering it.

Not now, though, because Louis is finally turning the key in the ignition and looking away. Zayn feels slightly colder and calls himself ridiculous for it in his head.

It's not a big thing when he reaches a hand over and sets it on top of Louis's on the gearshift halfway through the ride home. The bones of his hand shift underneath his skin as he squeezes a little, and Louis has a small smile on his face as at the next stoplight, he turns his hand over and squeezes back before he has to drive again.

The way back into the hotel is uneventful, as they go in the back way again, and once they're in the elevator, Zayn leans against the wall and looks at Louis, folding his arms over his chest.

"You, uh. You didn't invite Harry," he points out. He's been thinking about it for a while, now, didn't want to make a big deal out of it but can't help his curiosity. "Even when you knew we weren't going to a club."

Louis smiles a little and looks back at him, inclining his head. "No," he says quietly. "I didn't."

"... Why?" Zayn asks then, sure that the question was obvious and slightly annoyed that Louis has a need to make everything difficult.

Louis shrugs a shoulder that's too casual to be actually casual. "It's our time, you know? I spend a lot of time with Harry. I wanted to spend time with you."

Zayn pretends that doesn't make feelings bubble up in the pit of his stomach, and Louis pretends he doesn't notice.

"Alright," he accepts, frowning when the doors open. He feels like this shouldn't be the end of it, like they're finally so _close_ to figuring out what this is and he doesn't just want Louis to go back into his room and he doesn't just want to go back into his. He wants something to finally really happen.

He doesn't say any of this, though.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he says instead, as Louis opens his door. He remains in the doorway, looking back out at Zayn with the same look Zayn's pretty sure is on his own face.

"Yeah," Louis says softly. "Tomorrow." He pauses, opens his mouth, and closes it again. "Good night, Zayn," he finally mumbles, and Zayn nods, hearing the door click closed as he passes it on the way to his own.

Zayn sighs, checking the time on his phone. Just gone one. He doesn't feel tired at all, too full of thoughts. He replaces his phone and searches in his pocket for his key card, frowning when he doesn't find it. Weird.

He checks his other pocket. Not there, either. What the hell?

Shit. Zayn groans as he remembers he'd meant to grab his key card from the pair of jeans he'd been wearing earlier that day. He'd forgotten in the rush of preparing himself to be around Louis, and now it's still there, in the pocket of his jeans, crumpled on the floor.

He contemplates going to the front desk, but at one in the morning, doubts they'd be too hospitable, and besides, he'd feel rude. That's what he tells himself, anyway, as he treads back down the hallway to Louis's room and knocks on the door.

Louis opens it almost immediately, which startles him. Had Louis been waiting for him to come back?

"I, er, forgot my key card in my room," he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder and immediately feeling stupid. "Don't feel like going down to get another one. Can I bunk in with you?"

Louis looks at him for a long moment, and Zayn can almost feel electricity crackling between them. Finally, Louis nods.

"Course, man," he says cheerfully enough, stepping back to let Zayn in. "I've only got the one bed, though, sorry."

Zayn lets a smile curve the corner of his mouth, glancing at the one bed. "Just don't try to grope me in my sleep," he murmurs, casting his eyes back to Louis.

Louis raises his eyebrows and then very deliberately, very obviously, doesn't respond, just closing the door behind Zayn and moving into the bathroom.

Zayn loiters before deciding to just sit on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankle and waiting for Louis to return. Everything feels charged, even more than it normally is between them, and Zayn's not sure yet if they're going to do anything about it. He's not sure _what_ they would do about it.

"Need the loo?" Louis asks, popping his head out of the small room, and when Zayn shakes his head, he turns out the light and moves to his suitcase. They've been living out of suitcases this whole tour. It's difficult, but Zayn's living his dream, so it's rather worth it for him.

Louis rummages around before making a triumphant sound and emerging with a pair of loose trousers he obviously sleeps in. Zayn's pretty sure they've all slept in them, actually. Life in the X Factor house meant they tended to all wear each others' clothes more than their own.

Louis throws them at him and then strips his shirt over his head, and fuck. _Fuck_ , Zayn thinks faintly, he'd really like it if he could just not be at all attracted to Louis Tomlinson, especially not when he's about to share a bed with him.

Louis isn't paying him any attention, so Zayn simply stands and does as Louis is, removing his shirt and then his jeans, tugging on the trousers Louis had thrown at him. Louis doesn't bother, simply climbing into bed in his boxers. Zayn tries very hard not to think about that too much. If he thinks about that too much, he's not sure he can keep himself from attempting to lick Louis's hipbones, and he figures they should probably have the I-like-you-do-you-like-me conversation before any sort of licking occurs.

He takes a deep breath and slips under the covers next to Louis, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, but his plan is thwarted when Louis, instead of asking Zayn to, reaches over him and turns out the light himself. His bare skin is warm and smooth, and a lot of it is currently pressed against Zayn's chest.

Louis doesn't move away immediately when the room darkens, lingering against Zayn long enough that Zayn can inhale lungfuls of his scent. He closes his eyes and just breathes in _Louis_ , rests his hand against Louis's side and squeezes a little.

Louis makes a soft, sighing noise, and then relaxes, apparently deciding that Zayn makes a much better pillow than the one he has, and resting almost bodily on Zayn's chest.

"Lou?" Zayn's voice is very small in the darkness. He's not sure at all what he's going to say, but it turns out he doesn't have to worry about it, because the second Louis murmurs 'What?' and tilts his head up, Zayn is kissing him.

He almost, _almost_ pulls back, because that's definitely not what he had meant to do, but then Louis is making a desperate, throaty sound and clutching at Zayn's shoulders, so he figures Louis probably doesn't mind that Zayn isn't well-worded at this sort of thing.

"Zayn," Louis is whispering between kisses, rolling into him and then letting Zayn roll him back, pressing him into the bed. "Zayn, Zayn..." It's driving Zayn crazy.

"Shut up," Zayn mutters, trailing kisses down Louis's neck, sucking at his skin and then doing it again when Louis makes another deliciously needy sound. "'m trying to seduce you here."

Louis releases a choked giggle that turns into a sigh, his fingers running through the back of Zayn's hair. "S'pose you're doing alright at that," he murmurs in return, lips already parted when Zayn returns to them to lick inside his mouth.

Kissing Louis is everything he thought it'd be and better, wet and hot and almost like a fight, except with their tongues instead of their fists. Louis is constantly moving his hands, into Zayn's hair, down over the slope of his back, up to grip his biceps.

There's a second, awkward but easily avoided, where Zayn shifts a certain way and feels Louis hard against his thigh and he can tell Louis can feel that he's hard as well, but neither of them really knows what to do with that, so Zayn just moves his leg and they segue back into kissing smoothly enough.

Zayn eventually thinks maybe he'll actually pass out if he doesn't take more than a quick breath of air, so he kisses Louis's lips one more time before simply pressing his face against his neck, the sound of their breathing loud in an otherwise silent room.

Louis kisses his forehead, then his temple, then tilts Zayn's face up so that he can press their lips together again, apparently unconcerned with suffocation. Zayn decides that he doesn't really care, either, as long as Louis keeps doing that thing with his tongue.

Zayn is already formulating a plan for how to tell the other lads he and Louis are going to have to perform while kissing, sorry, when Louis pulls away, again, shuddering.

"You're addictive," he mumbles, smoothing his thumb over Zayn's lower lip. "I don't want to ever stop."

"So why did you, pillock?" Zayn asks, sucking Louis's thumb into his mouth without thinking.

The groan Louis releases tells him Louis doesn't really mind, though, and Zayn licks over the tip of it lightly, his tongue pressing underneath Louis's thumbnail for a moment before Louis is tearing his hand away, his chest heaving.

"If you'd stop being sexy, I wouldn't have nearly as many problems," Louis informs him, cupping Zayn's face and kissing him again, fiercely.

They keep kissing until breathing legitimately becomes an issue, and Zayn needs to practically lie on top of Louis to keep him from initiating any more.

"Stop it, fuck," Zayn moans, letting Louis press one last chaste kiss to his lips and then turning so that all Louis can do is kiss his cheek, which he does, pressing kisses over every inch of skin from Zayn's jawline to the top of his ears.

"I told you," Louis whispers into his ear, nuzzling him lightly. "Addictive."

Zayn tucks his lips into his mouth to hide his smile, but turns his head just enough to kiss the inside of Louis's wrist when he strokes Zayn's cheek.

"We should probably have a conversation about this," Zayn points out, reclining next to Louis when it seems the other boy is finished. Louis snorts quietly, stroking his hand up over Zayn's spine and squeezing the nape of his neck.

"Conversations are for losers," he mumbles, stretching. "Can't we just make out forever?"

"Our lips would fall off," Zayn replies. He can't stop smiling and doesn't think he wants to. "But yes."

"Good." Louis remains silent for a moment and Zayn thinks he's fallen asleep until he speaks again. "Told you you underestimated my skills of seduction."

He squawks when Zayn hits him in the face with a pillow. Zayn is entirely unrepentant.


End file.
